Shuxiang composition 200 words

Do your best until you die. Why rely on a building that you can't afford? This is the answer. Is it because of confusion and miscalculation that you missed the long-lived lamp that was blown out? Or is your childlike heart already rooted in the hometown of Shu? Seven yi, six out of Qishan, but where can I find your ancestral temple in a thousand years? Will your destination be the dense forest outside Jinguan, or will the grass be like spring and the birds be ethereal and pleasant?

You are very clever, but you are stupid. Letting go is a quiet life, cruelty will replace the honor of the ninth five-year plan, and the poor will show their talents. But you have no regrets, your life is empty, and your soul flies.

Everything is just for a trip to Nanyang.

How should I say hello? Is it stupid? Is it an illusion? Is it loyalty? Is it wisdom? I should be happy for you. Feel sorry for you? Feel sorry for you? Not worth it for you?

The Yangtze River flows eastward, and everything has become the color of pen and ink in history books. Only its back stands in the east wind.

The wind blowing through your white dress is a sigh, but before he conquered it, he was dead, and the heroes cried on their coats from now on.

Tragic, deep, but no regrets.

Castle Peak still exists, the sun still rises and the sunset still sets.

More words, more than 330.